


Ho Ho Ho!!!

by MermaidsandMermen (SophiaSoames)



Category: SKAM (Norway)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Christmas fair, M/M, Nissen, Santa's grotto, Snogging and kisses, christmas cheer, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-14
Updated: 2018-12-14
Packaged: 2019-09-18 04:54:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16988412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SophiaSoames/pseuds/MermaidsandMermen
Summary: A big fundraising School Christmas Market, to raise the last bit needed for that big Revue. It will be great. Lots of local families coming to drink glogg and buy hotdogs and do stupid money pinching games. Yes and the kids can meet Santa. Sit on his lap and get a present. Such christmassy fun.





	Ho Ho Ho!!!

**Author's Note:**

> Do I even need to explain this? Bloopers. Oh just FML. I just had to get something out OK? A bit of overload of feelings today. So I hope this will make you laugh and cringe in equal measures. Merry Christmas Blooper day everyone! xxx

"Ho Ho Ho!"

 I look like crap. I mean? Froede next to me just laughs, because, yes. It _is_ funny. Santa is supposed to be this big burly bear of a man with cheer and red cheeks. Instead you are looking at a skinny pale bloke in a Santa outfit that is far too big to even look convincible.

“You could stuff a pillow under the top bit, kind of tie the belt around it?” Froede suggests whilst he is convulsing with giggles and Per is just sitting there staring at me with an amused look on his face.

“You’re not going to pull wearing that Even.” He says and just shakes his head, then takes another gulp out of the water bottle in his hand. “ I mean, you don’t even look real man. You look like you are playing dressing up with a really bad Santa outfit.

“That’s what I’m doing.” I laugh back. I mean. It’s ridiculous, but if this is what I have to do to support the cause, then, yeah. Bring it on. It’s not like anyone is taking this seriously, well apart from that Year 2 girl who has organized it all and well, Yousef’s sister is part of her crew and I am kind of trying to make a good impression here. Being willing to totally make a fool out of myself in the name of raising funds for the revue.

Like I care. I don’t. I don’t give a flying fuck about the revue or Yousef’s sister or Vilde, the year 2 girl who comes flying into the room, in a frazzle of papers, and her phone stuck to her ear.

“Even, great. Yep. Yes, I’ll bring him out now. Have you got the presents ready? They’re in the van, in that big basket. Just bring it over to the tent and I’m bringing Santa out now.”

She’s all red cheeked and flustered, the Santa hat on her head crooked, and her hair is sticking out from underneath it, whilst she blows out a breath and smiles at me.

“You look fantastic. Good job. Boys, I need you all to man the raffle stand, we open in 5 minutes, and there is a queue already at the gate. This is going to be so good, lots of Christmas cheer! Nissen’s first Christmas market, and I get to pull it off! I’m so excited. “

“Have I got an Elf?” I ask.

You might wonder why I care. Why I even bother asking. I don’t give a damn about spreading cheer to the local children. I don’t care if the revue get’s cancelled next year due to lack of funds. Honestly. And Vilde, however sweet she is, will pull this thing off with or without my skinny arse plonked in a garden gazebo disguised as Santa’s cottage in the north pole, whilst it’s -12 and I am already pulling the Santa outfit off my skinny bones so I can fit my winter jacket underneath, and I even stuff my beanie under the hat, because it’s cold inside, so I will no doubt be freezing my nuts off as soon as I take a seat on the rickety chair that is Santa’s throne. At least if I have an Elf, this will all have been worth it. You see, I’m only doing this for the damn Elf.

“Be nice to the kids who come to see you, the parents will have paid 30 quid to get a nice photo of their little brats and Santa. So, ask if they have been good or bad, and smile at the camera and then give them a gift and off they go. The gifts are colour coordinated, red parcels for under 5’s and blue for over 5. Is that clear Even?”

Vilde sounds like my mother and I nod like a puppet. I have siblings. I can pretend to be Santa in my sleep.

“Is Isak here?” I ask, trying to keep my voice low. Because I only agreed to do this gig, on the proviso that Vilde kept to her promise. That I got to have Isak as my Elf. Not that he knows that, because Vilde has sworn on her Mother’s life that she won’t tell him. I don’t trust her at all, but she flashes me a little smile and rolls her eyes, like she thinks that I am the most pathetic human being in the world. Which at this point I will fully agree that I am. I mean just look at me. I’m standing here and Froede is trying to stuff my hoodie under my belt to give me at least an appearance of being a fat old man. It’s not helping. Not a bit. And now Vilde has her make up kit out and is brushing something red over my cheeks. Now I just look like an underfed drag queen with a hoodie under Santa’s frock. I’m doomed. Totally.

“Isak is outside, he’s squirming like a toddler wearing a green Elf costume. He looks adorable, but he keeps hiding and looking like he’s going to burst into tears. I’ve bribed him with everything I’ve got, so if he doesn’t stay the entire 3 hours, or skives off and hides somewhere, just ring me and I will come and whip his arse into gear.”

I smile, not because what she says is reassuring in any way, no I smile because If I had my way, I would more than happily whip Isak’s fine arse into gear. You see. Isak.

What can I tell you about Isak? He’s this tall lanky mess of a boy, with angelic curls, the cutest little mouth you have ever seen, and he just has this air about him that makes me want to wrap him up in a hug, shove him under my winter jacket, take him home, and put him in my bed.  I’ve got a little space already thought up in my head. He would lie up against the back wall, with an extra pillow under his head, and my duvet wrapped around him, tucked all the way up under his cute little chin, and then I want to keep him there for the rest of his life. I want to keep him safe. Warm. Loved. Cared for.

He almost always looks unhappy or sad when I see him at school. Either that or he looks nervous. Sometimes when he is with his friends, he laughs and smiles and giggles and it makes my chest go all warm, and I fall a little bit in love with him all over again. I just can’t help myself.

Not that I am the kind of guy who goes around and just randomly falls in love with cute boys. And not that Isak isn’t cute, because let me tell you, he most definitely is the cutest boy you will ever see, trust me on this. Isak is shit cute. Shit hot. Shit gorgeous. And all that shit will one day be mine. Totally.

“Even, move!!” Yeah that’s Vilde getting annoyed with me whilst I am stood at the top of the stairs daydreaming and looking out onto the long line of people by the school gates, waiting for the Nissen Christmas fair. Waiting for hot glögg and gingerbread biscuits and stupid raffles and games and yeah. That visit to Santa’s shite grotto where some snarky, totally unsuitable bloke, will try to convince these kids that he is the real Santa. I mean they will see right through me and kick my arse before I have even opened my mouth.

Not that I will be able to open my mouth, because I am stumbling ungracefully across the school yard towards the tent where a skittish looking Elf is staring at me like he has just seen Satan pretend to be dressed as Santa. Or something.

“ I look like shit and I know it.” I blurt out as I pass him. I mean. What am I supposed to say? In my head, when I kind of planned this, yeah, because I TOTALLY planned this, I would have said something suave and made him fall in love with me.

I’m so stupid. I’m so stupid. I’m so stupid that it’s not even funny.

“Have you seen me?” He squeals, and he actually looks at me. Looks me straight in the eye for the first time ever. And my face is no doubt scarlet (I silently thank Vilde for the makeup) as I stare back at him and try to smile.

“Even.” I say, reaching my hand out. My hand that is wearing crap ski gloves.

“Isak.” He says politely and shakes my hand. Firm grip. Eyes twinkling. Fuck he’s even cuter up close.

“I’ve never done this before.” I say. My voice shaking a little. I need to get a grip. Fast.

“Done what? Been dressed up or been about to get totally trashed by a bunch of pre-schoolers? Because I can tell you now, those kids are not going to buy this. Not for a minute. I mean, I’m in an Elf outfit. Not a North pole elf, no, Vilde had to go and order a fucking Disney film Elf. I’m green. And they will expect me to act like a dork and spread, what is it the damn Elf does in that movie? Spread cheer? Fuck that. Fuck Vilde.”

Isak stomps and huffs and rubs his bare hands together.

“Gloves.” I say. You need gloves.

“Do Elves wear gloves?” He asks. Almost innocently. Oh Isak.

“You will get cold. Grab some gloves. Have you got some? Otherwise I probably have some in my bag inside. “

I do. I always carry gloves, because I hate cold hands and I hate being cold. I’m like obsessed with gloves. Especially now that Isak needs a pair, I would actually offer to run back up to the classroom just to grab some for him. I would probably even rip the pair Froede is wearing right off his hands if it means I can keep my baby warm.

I can tell you one thing. This is not helpful. What is happening right now is not helping my crush on Isak. Not at all. Because he is rumbling around with his costume trying to get into his jacket pocket and produces a threadbare pair of green finger gloves.

Seriously. He is getting gloves for Christmas. Real waterproof thermal high-quality cool gloves. From me. Wrapped in tinsel and love and presented to him by myself. Whilst I am mostly naked in bed with him. Yeah. My brain is already undressing him. I want to hug him. I must be casting love heart eyes all over him. That’s probably why he is looking all embarrassed at the large hole in his glove. The one making his thumb stick out of the knitted yarn. I want to reach out and grab his hand and kiss his skin.

I don’t though. Because despite all my fucked-up thoughts I am a decent normal human being. I keep having to remind my self of that.

Instead I sit back in the rickety armchair that is covered with some kind of festive tablecloth, and cheerfully try out a “Ho Ho HOOOO!”

Which makes Isak cringe and bury his face in his hands.

“This is so embarrassing.” He whines into his hands.

“Tell me about it. At least you look cool. I look like some kind of deranged escaped prisoner trying to hide from the police by dressing up in a Santa suit.”

“Where did Vilde find that thing? It’s like….I have no words.” Isak shakes his head and then just bursts into giggles.

“Did you ever see that film with Eddie Murphy? You know. What’s it called. Trading Places!! “ I beam.

“What?” Isak looks all confused.

“You haven’t seen Trading places? It’s like the most epic Christmas movie of all times.”

“I’ve seen Die Hard?” Isak retaliates. Looking a little bit unsure of himself.

“Love Actually?” I try. I mean. It’s lovely and romantic. I would absolutley fly to Portugal and propose to Isak in a cosy restaurant surrounded by strangers. It would be totally my thing.

“Bridget Jones?” Isak laughs. He laughs and my heart flutters.

“Frozen.” I giggle.

“Oh my god. We can’t be friends.” Isak says, waving his arms around enthusiastically. “You can’t seriously have watched Frozen.”

“I have watched Frozen.” I say calmly. Because we can totally be friends. Totally.

“It’s like the most cringeworthy piece of shite…”

“It’s epic. All that sisterhood and feminism wrapped up in a sparkly ice castle.”

“With singing.”

“Lots of singing.” I smile back. Isak is smiling. And my stomach is somersaulting with how much I just want to get up and grab him and dance him around the room….eehhhre…tent. Garden gazebo that someone has draped tinsel all over.

I rein myself in. Honestly. This is not the time. Not the place.

“Isak, can we just rehearse this? I’m feeling really unsure of how to do this.” I lie. Yup. Because I might be a decent human being, but I am also Even. Even who kind of adores Isak, and If I can’t get up and give him a hug and waltz him around the room. Then I can do this. Just get to be close to him.

“What?” Isak giggles and fiddles with his phone.

“Isak. No mobiles on the north pole.” I try to sound stern.

“Just need a selfie with Santa.” Isak splutters. He’s all blushed. Flustered. Exploding with giggles and I don’t know what to do with myself apart from behave like the idiot I am.

“Ho Ho Ho.” I say in my deepest voice. “Come and sit on Santa’s lap.”

He does. Oh fuck. And I pop a virtual boner. Well. Not so virtual. He smells amazing. I kind of want to nuzzle my nose into his cheek and just breathe him in. I don’t. Instead I smile into his camera and he leans back so his full weight is on my chest.

Not helping Isak. Not. Helping.

“Have you been a good boy this year Isak? Or are you on Santa’s naughty list?” My voice is dripping with innuendo and Isak has gone bright red. At least he is laughing and not throwing himself off my lap. He’s still awkwardly perched on my leg and I suddenly don’t know what to do with my hands. They are kind of stuck in thin air, waving pathetically whilst he squirms a little and kind of half heartedly tries to get up.

“Stay!” I shout sounding more desperate than I was aiming for. Oops. Not good.

“I’m supposed to give you a present before you go.” I almost whisper. Fuck. Where did that come from? Think Even. Think!

“There are no presents for over 16’s, only kids ones. I don’t really need another colouring book.” Isak smiles.

Smooth. He’s fucking smooth this boy that is now smiling into my face, far too close for comfort.

He’s looking right at me. Smiling. Looking so full of shit, with giggles brewing in his cheeks and then at the same time, his face is blushed and there is fear. So much fear hiding in his eyes.

I swallow. Loudly.

I want to shout at him. Scream. Cry. Tell him not to be scared. Never be scared of me. Because I am just as frightened as you are. I’m all act and bravado when in reality I go home and curl up in my bed and wallow in anxiety. I want to grab him and whisper in his ear that I’m right here. You need someone who will love you. Someone who will wipe all that fear from your eyes. Someone who will kiss you until you will walk around, unable to stop smiling, letting your fingertips slowly stroke that bottom lip that is quivering sheer centimetres from my own, wondering how someone can make you feel this much.

I don’t know Isak Valtersen. I have never really spoken to him before today. I know some of his friends. He kind of knows a few people I know. But he doesn’t know me. And to be honest I don’t know him at all. Yet I do. I think in some kind of parallel universe he is just like me.

Scared. Worried. Unsure. And desperate to be loved.

Because trust me, I am desperate.

Not to the point that I would just grab some drunk at a party and snog their face off. No I am desperate to find someone who will just love me. Whole heartedly with all my quirks and flaws. Someone who will just wrap their arms around me and tell me not to worry about anything. Someone to hold at night when my thoughts become too much. Someone to wipe my tears. Someone who I will look like and my whole body will calm down to mush.

Because Isak is special. I have kind of always known that, since the first day I saw him.

I was a bundle of nerves that day, my heart racing, my mind riddled with anxious thoughts and my brain screaming in fear of the unknown, that first day of school a few months ago. Then I saw him, and he looked over at me and smiled. I don’t think he smiled at me, but he smiled, and my whole body went limp. It’s like he was warmth and sunshine and safety in one skinny Adidas wrapped perfect little parcel and my whole body calmed into a puddle of messy love hormones.

He’s just done it again, whatever it is he’s doing.

His hand is resting on my bicep, his arse weighing heavy on my thigh, and he just looks at me. Looks right through me.

“Don’t worry.” He says, his voice deep and calm.

“I hate things like this.” I whimper. My entire arsenal of bravado and cockiness suddenly gone.

“I hate things like this too. Believe me. If I didn’t know all the things Vilde will do to fuck up my life if I don’t do this thing for her, then I would be right out of here. Right now. I want to be home in my bed with a six pack of Tuborg and a pizza and FIFA on the PS4, and nothing else to fret about. That is where I want to be right now.”

“That sounds like heaven compared to this.” I whinge. Fuck. I sound like a needy kid now.

“Let’s just do this shit, then if we both survive with our nuts intact when the kids realize that we are some kind of incredibly shite Santa imposters, then I’ll treat you to pizza and beer at mine after.”

Now suddenly Isak is all tense. Like he has said something wrong. Like he has just spilled something ridiculous out of his mouth that he didn’t mean to say.”

“Like a date?” I blurt out.

Oh fuck. If Isak’s face could get any redder he would be…like….on fire. Honestly. And I am going to have black bruises on my arm because his fingers are kind of cramping into my skin and he looks like he’s going to pass out. Totally.

“A date?” He coughs out.

“ Santa is taking his Elf on a date….” I start. Then my brain freezes. I can’t think of a single cool snarky funny thing to say. I hadn’t planned _this_ part. Not at all. I was just hoping we could hang out and talk and perhaps I could get his number and we could kind of be friends or something. The start of a beautiful friendship. That was as far as my plan had gone. I didn’t expect him to sit on my lap looking at me with terrified puppy eyes whilst I was fighting a boner in my skinny jeans and at the same time being terrified of blurting out the one thing, I will probably say any second and then it will all be over and Isak will run off and never speak to me again.

“Really? Why would I go on a date with Santa? I mean, you haven’t even given me a present?” His voice is shaky, yet he is nursing a little smirk. His eyes twinkling behind the fear.

“Told you I was the worst Santa in the world.” I giggle nervously. This. This. It’s not going well is it.

“It’s just a beer. And Pizza. In my shit flat share. “ He says. Looking at me.

I can’t stand him looking at me like this. Like he is so scared that he might just pass out. The way is breath is hitching. His Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he is swallowing. The way he is trying to pass this off as some joke when I know full well that this is no joke. Not for me. I don’t think this is a joke for him either. I may be young and inexperienced and all that shit, but I can tell when someone is flustered, and Isak Valtersen is dying inside. Just like me.

“I have something for you.” My mouth says. “Something I won’t give to anyone else. It’s just for you.”

“My own personal present.” Isak tries to sass. He’s failing miserably looking all sweaty under his elf hat whilst his hand is losing its grip on my arm.

“Just for you. It’s not even wrapped. Just something I need to give you.” I try to keep my voice steady. It’s all or nothing now. We haven’t even admitted the first kid into Santa’s grotto and I am about to fuck up. Or not. It’s 50/50 at this point.

“Are you guys ready?” Someone pokes their head into the tent and Isak flies off my lap like I’ve just Tazered him.

“Yeah Yeah, Jaa. Yes.” Isak stutters out far too loudly. Whilst I am standing up waving my arms around pretending to stretch. Fuck. We’re doomed. I’m doomed.

“ Great.” The girl says, staring at us suspiciously. “Shall I send the first kid in then?” She questions whilst Isak pretends to be very interested in some tinsel and I plonk myself back down in the seat.

“Ho Ho HO!” I say, overconfidently as the first snowsuit clad snotty kid enters Santa’s fucking shite North Pole grotto.

Isak buries a laugh in his elbow, and I put on my most charming smile whilst my stomach flips with unease.

This. This is either going to go to hell or to heaven. Whatever. Whatever happens when we finish this thing, I’ll probably die with feelings.

 

Turns out, Isak is charming. He sits down on his hunches and talks to kids in some kind of silly voice whilst the parents stare suspiciously at me when I pretend to be about 100 years old and ask them about Xbox games and Nerf guns and all the other stuff. I’m a shit Santa. Honestly. I freely promise the kids puppies and kittens and super expensive mountain bikes and trips to Disneyworld like some millionaire, whilst the Parents laugh and squirm and whisper “He’s not the real Santa” behind my back. Yeah bitch, my hearing is that good.

In reality it’s just all nerves coming out in ridiculous statements and I’m kind of a little high on myself and on the absolute fact that Isak keeps staring at me between encounters with small people. He keeps looking over and then looking down and that blush has never really left his cheeks.

We survive though. With our nuts and balls and dignity intact. Perhaps. Maybe. Perhaps I am being economical with the truth here, but Vilde is ecstatic blubbering on about the huge success and the masses of people and how much they are raising whilst I just smile pathetically and whip the damn Santa beard from my face behind the last kid's unsuspecting back. I can barely breathe with that thing on and anyway, turns out I’m a bit hot with all this kit on and I’m flustered, and I just want to go back to being just me. Me and Isak.

He’s out of his Elf costume by the time I have turned my back around. Standing there pushing the costume back into a plastic bag with more ferocity than probably needed.

“Never again.” He huffs and looks up at me.

“Wasn’t that bad.” I try to smile. It was. It was exhausting. Draining.

“It’s fun to talk to the kids, but the bloody parents. Demanding shit. Complaining about the crap present. Wanting another go because the picture is out of focus. Like I am some manager. It’s a school fundraiser, not Legoland.” Isak is stomping his boots on the ground like he is trying to get some blood back into his toes.

I know the feeling. I can barely feel my feet as I stand up and stretch, ripping the Santa top over my head and smiling as Isak laughs at the hoodie stuck under my belt.

I look ridiculous. He looks amazing.

I smile. He smiles.

I’m all hot. I’m too cold. At the same time, I’m burning up and I’m desperate and terrified all over again.

“I never got my present.” He sasses, and winks at me.

“We kind of got interrupted. “ I say back. Trying to smile whilst my throat has gone all dry.

“So, tell me about this present.” He says taking a step to the side. Then one forwards. Then immediately he steps back. Putting his bare thumb in his mouth, like he is biting on a nail. Then he stops and looks all disgusted with himself.

“Isak.”

Fuck. I have to be honest here. Because if I grab him and kiss him and it turns out all wrong, then. I don’t even want to think about it. I’ve made that mistake once before and it wasn’t worth it. Not on any level.

“Yes?” He looks up.

He does it again. That magic thing he does, where suddenly my whole body calms.

I take a deep breath. I mean I have two choices. I can either chuck a colouring book at him and turn it into a joke.

Or.

“Isak. Look. I’m going to be incredibly blunt and honest here, because If I fuck this up I’ll ruin your day and mine and things will be so damn awkward. So, I’m just going to say it. Is that cool with you?”

“Yes. Yes, Of course. Whatever.” He stutters. And fuck if he isn’t the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. All pink blushed skin, frost forming from his breath and all those emotions swirling through his eyes. He’s like and open book. I love that. I love how well I think I can read him. I hope. God please let me survive this. Please. Please.

“I like you and I really really want to kiss you. Then I want to get to know you and have beer and pizza and then maybe you will let me kiss you goodnight before I head home later. That’s all. I really want to kiss you. I think that’s what I’m saying.”

“As a pre…present?” he stutters. Staring at me like he can’t believe I just said that.

“I’m kind of crushing on you right now. Hard.” Fuck me. Fuck my life. Fuck everything.

“Oh.”

Yeah. Endgame. Finish. Over. Gone.

 

He just stands there and fuck me if there isn’t a little smile creeping up. Just a tiny one as he wipes his mouth on the back of his shit glove and shuffles a little on his feet.

“Okay?” He giggles. Nervously. Still smiling.

“Would that be an OK present? Suitable? The right age range and everything?” His smile is spurring me on and I take a very shy step forward. Trying to close all that unnecessary space between us. Totally unnecessary. Honestly.

“I suppose so?” He smiles. His whole body is shaking. Well so is mine so whatever. I need to do this. Oh fuck. What do I do now? Again. I haven’t thought this through.

“You have to come closer.” I say.

Ok. There are a million cool phrases I could say. Like a George Clooneyesque “Come here.” In a deep demanding voice. Or maybe I should just grab him and slam him into the side of the tent. No. Scrap that. Not good. Maybe.

I stop thinking in that moment. It’s like my whole life flashes in front of me. Seriously. It’s life changing. Mind-blowing. Awesome doesn’t even begin to describe it.

 

Because Isak Valtersen, my Isak Valtersen, because believe me, after less than 10 seconds of him slamming into me with all the urges of a 17-year-old kid, I have claimed him as mine. My boyfriend, my love, my beloved. My life.

His lips are practically eating my face. It’s not refined. It’s not romantic. It’s more like this gorgeous boy is just clinging to me, trying to climb the damn red polyester trousers on my legs like some tall Christmas tree, and I am just barely hanging on before he will have me falling backwards into my Santa chair.

Yup. That’s me. That’s the moment I fall back into the rickety thing that creaks alarmingly with the weight of my body, and then again as Isak climbs onto my lap and straddles me, whilst my head is being bent back and his mouth is back on mine, licking into my mouth like I’m dessert. And dinner. And a starter. All swirled into one.

“Fuck.” I say. Smooth Even. All the Oscars in the world goes to me in that moment.

Not that I’m acting. I am all me. All me in my desperate clumsy attempts to get my hands in under his beanie, and I am fisting his hair, those addictive blonde curls caressing the skin between my fingers as I moan into his mouth.

I said he was slobbering all over me. I didn’t mean that as a bad thing. Because I am kind of eating his face right back, sucking on his lips and drooling a little as he let’s his mouth kiss my cheek. My jaw. Then he kisses the skin on my neck, and then he latches his mouth onto me and sucks like some vampire and I would be lying if there wasn’t a part of me that is now definitely very hard and uncomfortable in my jeans.

“You’re gorgeous.” He pants. “So hot.”

“I like you.” I scrunch out in between clashing my teeth into his and sucking on his bottom lip. “I want to be with you. All the time. I just like you. “

“You like me?” He says and for a second, he stops. Just sits there on my lap with his hands around my face whilst my neck is stinging form his mouth and my eyes are watering with emotions.

“I’ve crushed on you since the first time I saw you.” My honesty has no shame.

And fuck me if his eyes aren’t looking a little watery too. It could be the cold. It could be that he is a little out of breath. Like me. It could be the smoky wafts from the hot dog stand next door.

“Do you mean that?” He stutters a little. Smiling. Looking that right kind of shade of flattered, embarrassed, and . Yeah. Horny. His dick is kind of hard against my stomach. Not that I mind. I don’t mind at all. Because I think we both know that this is the most ridiculously hot and horny situation that we could ever have found ourselves in.

“You, are the most gorgeous boy I’ve ever met. “ Yeah. There are better phrases, but I think he’s melted my brain. I can’t think clearly. Apart from that I want to kiss him again and taste him. Feel his breath in my mouth. His tongue on my skin. His body pressed against mine.

“Shall we sneak out of here?” He whispers.

“Pizza and Beer?” I whisper back. Then I steal another kiss. And another.

“Will there be more presents?” He says, his voice full of innuendo and laughter.

I’m addicted already. I mean, crushing on Isak was one thing. Kissing him is a completely different ballgame.

“For you, absolutley.” I giggle. And lick his nose. Just a flick but it makes him laugh, and anyway, he’s kind of rocking against me and if we don’t rein this in, we will end up getting off on this chair in the middle of the school yard and someone will walk in on us and it will be….

“I’ve been…” Isak says. Then stops.

“What?” I say softly, letting my lips stroke his. Oh hell. I love this. So much. Soo much.

“I’ve been kind of… If I had say, made a top ten list of the hottest blokes here at school….”

He squirms. Smiles. Blushes.

I kiss him. I mean how can I not?

“Am I on it?” I laugh. Whilst his tongue tickles my tonsils for the next 5 minutes.

“There is only one name on that list. The entire top ten.” He sasses.

“Who? “ I pretend to look annoyed. “Tell me who he is so I can get him banned from this school forever. “

He strokes his fingers over my cheek. Looks at me like he can’t believe that I’m real. That he’s here on my lap and fuck. I tug at him and kiss him again.

“You. It’s only ever been you.” He whispers.


End file.
